


The Gang's Worst Nightmare

by NoahZ



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1793380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoahZ/pseuds/NoahZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie wakes up with no eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gang's Worst Nightmare

 

The sound of stirring and waking grunts.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

9:45 a.m.

A Wednesday.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Charlie sits up in bed, exhausted and disoriented. He’s still wearing the torn grey t-shirt and green cargo pants he put on the previous Sunday. Sitting over the edge of the bed, hunched, Charlie goes to rub the sleep from his eyes. The nearly-condemned apartment building rings with his screams.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 THE GANG’S WORST NIGHTMARE

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

At Paddy’s, Dee has just opened shop and is wiping down the bar. The scent of garbage and vomit hangs heavily in the air, and Dee pours alcohol heavily down her throat as she half-assedly cleans. 

The door to the bar bursts open, and Dennis rushes in. His hands are in his hair and his not-quite-fashionable button-down shirt is particularly disheveled; he’s clearly distressed. 

“Dee, you are not going to believe this shit.” Dennis paces back and forth, stopping to grab a beer.

“I probably will, your shit isn’t really that, usually, that unbelievable. And could you not put your beer on the bar, I was just cleaning that!” 

“Well, Dee, I think that’s the root of your problems—you’re horrible at cleaning, truly, atrocious. Look at this,” Dennis runs a finger along the bar and holds it up to Dee’s face. “Absolutely filthy. Maybe you should spend less time criticizing my beer placement and more time, y’know, working on your cleaning abilities, Dee.” 

Dee glares at Dennis with sheer fury, then takes another drink. “So what had you all in a huff when you burst in here?” She says, after a moment.

Dennis looks around, realizing what he’s forgotten. “Oh! Oh right! Oh shit! Mac, get in here!” A loud crash is heard as Mac walks straight into the closed door. Dennis saunters over to the door and opens one side; Mac plows into the still-closed door. “This way, moron,” Dennis condescends as he guides Mac by the arm. 

“Well, Dee, how unbelievable is this: Mac woke up with no eyes.” Dennis gestures proudly to Mac’s empty, bloody eye sockets. Mac smiles, as if he’s accomplished something, and also points to his grisly eye holes. Dee looks blank for a moment, then disgusted, then outright horrified. She slowly approaches. 

“D-Dennis, Mac has no eyes. He-his eyes are-Dennis, he—”

“Yes, Dee, it’s been established, Mac’s eyes have been lost.” Dennis says, crossing his arms, actively working to oppose Dee’s apparent shock and horror.

“Well c’mon, let’s not say lost, let’s not make me look like the bad guy here, they may have been stolen by, like, ninja mafia creditors.” Mac nods matter-of-factly. Dee and Dennis look at him, confounded.

“Ninja creditors? Mac that’s among the stupidest things I’ve ever heard. Your body is falling apart; I mean, it’s no secret that you take terrible care of yourself. It’s a natural thing, first the eyes go, then you can’t walk—”

“No, Dennis!” Dee interjects. “It is not—he has gaping bloody holes in his face! Have you taken him to a doctor or—”

“Oh, no, see, Mac is entirely unwilling to enter a hospital.” Dennis looks to Mac for approval. Mac, facing entirely the wrong direction but smiling as if he is engaging Dennis, nods.

“It’s the next most likely place to lose more body parts, Dee. C’mon, think with your brain.” Mac laughs sarcastically, then rubs some blood from his cheek. “I will admit, my eye holes are bleeding a lot, like, a whole lot.”

“Of course they are! Mac you need medical attention!” Dee walks toward the phone which has begun to ring. She answers and looks pained, as if the other sound is some horrifyingly shrill sound.

“You’re—what? Spiders? N-no, I—Charlie slow down, speak English. No, English, that isn’t English, that’s…I’m not actually sure, that doesn’t even sound like gibberish. Charlie. Charlie, I—Charlie! There are not spiders in your eyes!”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Those…do appear to be spiders.” Dennis notes, not with disgust but with some degree of surprise, examining Charlie’s eye holes. 

“I told you!” Charlie shrieks, flailing and hitting Dee in the face.

“Dammit Charlie! Don’t make any big movements, you’re, you’re blind now, you’re just hitting things right and left.” Dee turns away, wiping her face.

“Well ex _cuse_ me for having fallen victim to the dream goblins.” Charlie laughs as if this is a common occurrence. The gang looks confused, except Mac who is attempting to train his other senses to Daredevil-like levels in the background.

“Dream goblins? Charlie—you know what, I actually don’t feel like dealing with this degree of insanity. Dee, why don’t we drop Mac and Charlie off at the hospital and head back to Paddy’s?”

“Uh uh uh, I am not going to any hospital! I need more training first…” Mac shouts from the other room, where has knocked over virtually all breakable items.

“Yeah no way, I can’t go to a hospital, or sleep, or eat, or, wow, there is a _lot_ of blood coming from my eye holes.” Charlie laughs lightheartedly. Dee shakes her head and looks away in disgust.

“Hang on a second—Charlie, where the hell is Frank?” Dennis asks, turning to look Charlie in the lack-thereof-eyes. 

“I—I’m not sure? I woke up and sat up in bed and I don’t think I felt him there and then I was just screaming and screaming and feeling my eye holes and there was the spider in this one and I called you and then—”

“Alright, we don’t know need the full recap. Now, you say Frank wasn’t there when you woke up?” Dee asks, now curious.

“Not that I know of but I mean,” Charlie gestures to his empty eye sockets, “I’m not the best source, given my, y’know—”

“Your lack of eyes, we know.” Dennis and Dee say in unison, tired of the subject. A loud crash is heard from the other room, followed by a moan from Mac. Dennis enters the room to check the damage. Mac has been trapped under a mannequin. 

“Good god you are inept.” Dennis lifts the mannequin and frees the incapacitated Mac. “Alright, you know what? Why don’t you two hang tight here, Dee and I are going to, um, go back to the bar and think this through, level heads and clear eyes, you know, and we’ll be back.” 

Dennis and Dee walk toward the door. “I’m telling you, it’ll be fine. By the time you get back my senses will have evolved beyond those of a bat. I mean it, I’m already feeling like I have no fear.” Mac bounces.

“Mac, you were just defeated by an inanimate object and you’re currently bouncing on an area of the floor absolutely covered in thumbtacks—Charlie, why are there so many thumbtacks? Literally half of the floor is thumbtacks.” Dennis has begun to get angry.

“They keep away the dream goblins!” Charlie replies in a matter-of-fact shrill. 

“Okay, I’ve had enough of this, come on Dee.” Dennis walks brusquely out the door. Dee looks around the room, shrugs, and exits as well. Mac continues bouncing, slows, then stops.

“There…there are a lot of thumbtacks in my feet now.” 

“Find me a better way to keep out goblins and we’ll talk!” Charlie laughs mockingly.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of your shit, face Daredevil!” Mac turns to beat down Charlie, but is rapidly impeded by the thumbtacks in his feet. He walks slowly and falteringly toward Charlie, who has begun feeling his face again.

“Ay, Mac, I think my spider’s back!”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Dee and Dennis sit in Paddy’s pub, drinking beers. 

“I’m telling you, Dee, they’re diseased, they both have horrific hygiene, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” Dennis shakes his head.

“Yeah, I’m beginning to think you might have a point, though it still bugs me that Frank’s missing.” Dee contemplates while taking a sip of her beer.

“He’s probably off mixed up in something and he’ll burst in the door later today needing $15,000 or someone to apply ointment to his dick. We’ve got this handled—I don’t want to be too hasty, but I think it’s safe to say we’re finally going places.” Dennis says, gesticulating wildly to emphasize his point. Dee nods.

“Yeah…still, kind of weird.” 

“I’m telling you, it’s nothing. Now the real mystery is why, with Mac and Charlie out of commission and Frank MIA, we’re still sitting in _this_ dump!” Dennis stands. “We have virtually no reason to be here—it’s 10:30 AM, no one is drinking at this time.” He takes another sip of his beer, and Dee drinks in agreement. 

“You’re right. Yeah, you’re right.” Dee stands. “We should be off—living! We’re young, we have no responsibilities.”

“Living free from the impeding influence of those sickly lepers.” Dennis laughs. “Let’s go, I’m sure there’s millions of things we could be up to.” He strides toward the door, but before he can touch the handle it opens. 

Standing in the doorway is a tall man wearing white jeans, a white t-shirt, and white shoes. He has shockingly white hair and wears dark sunglasses. 

“I—oh, well hello there.” Dennis says, a bit confused. “Can I…help you?” 

The man in white says nothing, but smiles slightly. Dee and Dennis stand, facing him, confused and annoyed. 

“Is there something we can do for you? Are you here for a drink? Anything?” Dee asks. Growing more upset, she snaps in the stranger’s face repeatedly. “C’mon, say something you silent white bastard, come on! You’ve got a perfectly good mouth there, say something, dick!”

Dennis grabs Dee’s wrists, pulling her back. “Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa. Whoa. Now, Dee, this gentleman may be here for a reason, snapping in his face is no way to approach a customer. I’m sorry, sir,” Dennis says, walking back over to the man as Dee cools herself down. “Is there anything we can do for you? As you can see—”

“I’m afraid I can’t see.” The man says, finally breaking his silence. Dee and Dennis look at him, mortified. 

“He’s—”

“He’s blind, Dennis. I…I got all up in the face of a blind guy.” Dee takes a long drink. 

“It’s quite alright. I do just fine, despite my impairment.” The man says.

“Well, we’re sorry about the hubbub, sir. Paddy’s caters to anyone and everyone, I mean, our friends just woke up blind this morning, so far be it for us—”

“I’m sorry, did you say your friends woke up blind this morning?” The man in white interrupts Dennis’s fumbling attempt at customer service.

“Blind as bats. Big bloody eye holes. Pretty gruesome. We’ve got em hanging out at home, trying to figure out what to do with em.” Dee nods nonchalantly as she says this.

The man in white smiles and nods. “I see…” Dennis laughs loudly at this, prompting Dee to hiss at him. The man in white strolls forward. “And you say they have bloody holes where their eyes once were?” 

Dennis nods. “Bloody, gaping eye holes. Leprosy, probably.”

“Honestly, I’m still a bit disgusted thinking of it.” Dee chokes down her disgust and drinks.

The man in white turns away. “Quite an unusual phenomenon. Ah, it occurs to me, I have yet to introduce myself. How rude. I, am the Corinthian.” Dennis and Dee say nothing, unsure of what the stranger is talking about. The man removes his sunglasses, still turned away.

“You say you have seen some very strange eye holes today. I know a thing or two about that.” At this, the Corinthian turns around and reveals his own eye holes, lined with razor sharp teeth.

“Oh jesus! Holy shit! Holy fucking shit, Dee!” Dennis screams.

“That guy has fucking eye mouths! Fucking eye mouth goblin! You’re the goblin Charlie wouldn’t stop screaming about!” Dee backs away in terror.

“Charlie…hm, the one with the thumbtacks? Yes, somewhere along the line he got the awful impression that dreams fear thumbtacks.” The Corinthian laughs darkly. “Well, perhaps this is true. But I am no dream.” Dennis and Dee have backed up to the wall, and the Corinthian has followed them.

“I am a nightmare.” 

The block is filled with the sounds of Dennis and Dee’s screams.

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Dennis, Mac, Charlie, and Dee sit around a table at Paddy’s, drinking. 

“Y’know, Mac, I’ve gotta say I’m sorry I doubted you. Excellent job getting to Paddy’s, and excellent job finding us drinks.” Dennis says, almost sincerely. 

“Yeah, and he also, earlier, he got the spider eggs out of my eye hole, so, I’ve got to thank you for that, Mac.” Charlie pats Dee on the back, thinking it’s Mac.

“Don’t touch me.” Dee says, perturbed. “I can’t believe we’re all acting like things are completely normal— _we all have giant gaping bloody eyeholes now.”_

The other three seem unaffected. “Eh. Eyes weren’t that great anyway.” Dennis says with a shrug.

“Yeah I mean, I still see, like, things, like fire and lights and animals, so like, I’m pretty okay with this actually.” Charlie says, taking a drink.

“Can’t complain about being Daredevil. Truly, I’m now an even more impressive physical specimen. Didn’t think it was possible.” Mac flexes and knocks over his drink. Dee shakes her head and kills her beer.

The door to the bar swings open and the gang bursts to their feet, for fear the Corinthian has returned.

Frank waddles into the bar, his hair long and standing up at all angles. He wears black jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black trench coat. He has a gas mask on, which he pulls off as he begins to talk. “Hey dudes. I’ve had the craziest morning, this chick wanted meto get all dressed up, some real BDSM shit, go to some club. The place got pretty nasty though, decided it wasn’t worth it. What’s the deal with you losers?”

Everyone stares—well, whatever the equivalent is—blankly at Frank. He looks at them, scanning for what’s wrong. After a moment a look of horror spreads across his face and he lets out a scream. The gang smiles, relieved that he at least understands their predicament. 

Frank, still yelping, grabs at his crotch. “Oh god, I think I picked up something from that kinky chick, augh, who wants to put ointment on my schlong?”


End file.
